


Shades of Kaiju Blue

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Getting Together, Kaiju (Pacific Rim), Lancelot friendship, Lotor is Done™ with these idiots, M/M, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: They were good copilots, Lance and Lotor, compatible in a way few people were.  Hunk should be happy for them.  Happy for humanity, that anyone existed who had the synchronization to drift together, to defend the world from this threat.But when two people drifted, they shared every thought with each other, every memory, every emotion.  They piloted as perfectly in-sync, close enough to be one person.Add that to the fact that Lotor had ranked second in People Magazine's "The Pacific's Seven Hottest Jaeger Pilots," and how was Hunk supposed to compete with that?





	Shades of Kaiju Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [enHANCEd zine](http://enhancedzine.tumblr.com/), and I had a lot of fun with it!!

Hunk knew he shouldn’t be there.

He was in for a reprimand if he was caught, at the very least.  He had plenty to be doing; in fact, the sooner he finished, the sooner Lance wouldn’t be in this position anymore.  Although Zephyr Wildfire had been badly damaged in the last Kaiju attack, Hunk was the best engineer they had.  He could have the Jaeger repaired faster than anyone else here.

But not, he knew, in time to do any good for this attack.  Right now, Lance and Principe Aquarius were on their own.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from the screens that decorated the Local Command Center (or “LOCCENT”), though.  Sincline.  Category Four.  A nasty piece of work, three thousand tons of viciousness with long, sinister tentacles that dripped a corrosive, neon blue liquid.  Pidge had rattled off other specs to the piloting team, but Hunk had blocked it all out.  Just like he always did.  He had thought Daibazaal was bad; this fucker?  Even worse.

And seeing what Daibazaal had done to Zephyr Wildfire, looking at the damage in-depth as he tried to fix it, wouldn’t make him feel any better about this attack.

“Aquarius!” Allura called, voice raised and fierce, barking out orders with obvious confidence.  “Watch that acid!  Scanners show that the armor has degraded significantly; we don’t want you exposed out there!”

“We’re fiiiine,” came the familiar cocky drawl, and Hunk’s stomach did a somersault.  Lance’s voice usually left him feeling ten times better, but not today.  “A challenge every now and then is healthy.  And fun!  Right, Lotor?”

The elegant British accent of Lance’s copilot crackled to life over the comms.  “Shatterdome, I would like it on record that despite being in his head, I have nothing to do with this.”

“Yeah,” Lance scoffed.  “Because being in my head, you _wish_ you could come up with this quality content.”

A murmur rippled through control, and Hunk didn’t miss Allura’s expression of fond exasperation.  Still, Lance’s clowning—though bordering on insubordination and leaving Allura rolling her eyes—did send a ripple of a relief through the gathered onlookers, leaving them a little less tense and a little more able to focus on their jobs instead of worrying what would happen if something went wrong.

It almost worked for Hunk.  Almost.  Nothing could negate the knowledge of what a kaiju could do, and hearing them together…

They were good copilots, Lance and Lotor, compatible in a way few people were.  Hunk should be happy for them.  Happy for humanity, that anyone existed who had the synchronization to drift together, to defend the world from this threat.

But when two people drifted, they shared every thought with each other, every memory, every emotion.  They piloted as perfectly in-sync, close enough to be one person.

Add that to the fact that Lotor had ranked second in People Magazine's "The Pacific's Seven Hottest Jaeger Pilots," and how was Hunk supposed to compete with that?

His eyes latched onto the screen as Aquarius Principe swung its left arm.  Lance’s arm.  It connected solidly with what was probably the creature’s gut, then darted out to snag a handful of Sincline’s writhing tentacles.

“Someone went on a Bad Dragon spending spree,” Lance crowed.  “Lemme tell you, buddy, it’s not a good look for you.”

With a grunt from Lance and a sigh from Lotor, the Jaeger ripped the mass free.

A cheer erupted around Hunk as the creature shrieked, finally beginning to falter.  Hunk wondered if it would fall before his fingernails were gnawed to the quick—or if Lance and Lotor would, instead.  Aquarius’s right arm landed right in the kaiju’s ugly jaw.

“Eat metal, motherfucker!” Lance cried as Aquarius lifted a knee, then drove it forward, sending the monster plummeting back into the sea with an agonizing screech.  “Now _that’s_ a jaegerbomb!”

Hunk could practically feel everyone around him rolling their eyes even as he let out a bark of reluctant laughter.  Terrible.  But what would they all do without Lance’s comments, a bright spot in the grim reality of a planet that was regularly being attacked by monsters?  With up front seats to the destruction they caused, no less?  Though the Jaegers had never failed to destroy a kaiju—humanity would have been wiped out if they had—there were, far more frequently than anyone would have liked, human casualties.

Hunk just didn’t want Lance joining that number.

“Its vital signs are weakening, but not gone yet!  Don’t get overconfident!”

The Jaeger lunged for Sincline, which made a horrifying shrieking noise as Aquarius gripped one of its jaws in each hand, then wrenched them apart.

For one brief, glorious moment, Hunk thought this was it: that Lance and Lotor had won, that the kaiju would fall dead into the ocean and Aquarius Principe would come home, unscathed, to fight another day.

And then the kaiju’s shriek turned to one of fury.  Hunk, along with the entire LOCCENT, whipped his head to the screen just in time to see a mass of furious, bubbling neon blue erupt from the monster’s distended throat, splashing relentlessly towards Aquarius Principe.

“No!” Lance shouted, and it took Hunk a moment to realize what he had done: instead of letting the front of the Jaeger take the full attack, putting both pilots at risk, Aquarius Principe had swiveled to the right to allow Lance’s side to take the brunt of the damage.  Protecting Lotor, yes, but Hunk’s stomach dropped into a bottomless pit as he stared at the flashing alarms and realized that the acid had corroded through the left side, leaving Lance exposed to the elements.

And to the kaiju.

“ _What are you—_ ”

Lotor’s furious cry was cut off with an agonized scream, so loud and helpless and agonizing that Hunk didn’t realize whose it was, not until—

“Espinoza!  Can you hear me?” Allura barked, leaning forward, hands gripping the desk in front of her.  “Get me a read on his vitals!”

“Alive, ma’am,” Pidge replied instantly, “but not—”

“LOCCENT,” Lotor groaned, and Hunk had never heard him sound like he was in this much pain before.  “Lance is unconscious.  The acid’s got him.”

Everyone in the room was dead silent for several moments.  This left Lotor alone in a Jaeger, something that had scrambled the brains of more people than any of them cared to think about.

Allura whirled, intense thought on her face, and her eyes met Hunk’s.  Her eyes widened, and for a moment, he thought he was a dead man.

As she strode over, he took comfort in the fact that at least he would die before he had to watch Lance do it.

“Zephyr Wildfire,” she hissed, leaning in.  “How much have you been able to repair?  Even if it’s not in perfect shape, we have to do _something_ —”

Hunk shook his head, beginning to feel dizzy.  “It can barely even walk right now,” he said in a tiny voice.  “And Shiro’s arm is _gone_ , Allura.  He can’t pilot—”

Her eyes grew even more intense, almost crazed, and his eyes widened, realizing what she had planned.  “And neither can _you!_ ” he yelped.  “You can’t get in a Jaeger—you’ll _die!_ ”

“Don’t give me orders,” she snapped back, lifting her head to look over Hunk, and Hunk knew he couldn’t do anything about this.

Another scream came in from the comms, and they all whirled back.  But this one—this one belonged to Sincline.

Aquarius Principe had grabbed the kaiju’s head between its hands and was slowly but steadily squeezing, refusing to give even an inch in the face of its thrashing.  Hunk realized that, alongside Sincline’s agonized shrieks, Lotor was yelling as well, though in torment or fury Hunk couldn’t tell.

Maybe both.  His lungs ached to let out the same sound, to scream in defiance of the lot life had handed them all.

“He’s piloting solo,” Allura breathed, expression now slack with shock.

A nasty crunching noise, and Hunk managed to squeeze his eyes shut right before Lotor squished Sincline’s head like an overripe melon.

A silence in the space of three heartbeats before Pidge’s voice rang out across LOCCENT.

“Sincline down.”

Relieved murmuring and a few scattered cheers sounded around Hunk, but he couldn’t join in.  Not until he knew Lance was all right.

The relief, however, turned immediately to alarm at Pidge’s next words.  “Aquarius is down!  It’s on its knees—the head is taking water!”

Allura whirled, striding back to Pidge.  “Is it damaged?” she barked.

“No—Lotor’s controlling it, still.  He… dunked them?”

Pidge sounded just as confused as Hunk felt, but Allura wasted no time in returning to comms.  “Lotor!  What the _hell_ are you doing!”

Lotor’s bark of humorless laughter echoed through the room.  “Saving this idiot’s life.”

And then the comms went dead.

—

It took sixteen minutes for them to haul Lance and Lotor back to the Shatterdome.  Hunk counted every single one.

He managed to shove his way to the front of the crowd as they brought Lance out, still unconscious, armor stripped away, valleys of circuitry patterns burned into his skin alongside an ugly, twisting riverbed of acid burn.  To his immense relief, it didn’t look as bad as he had feared; he had half-expected to see bone, but this looked as if it had been at least partially treated already.

As the medics passed by, Lotor in tow, Hunk overheard one of them murmur, “Why the hell do you keep baking soda in a Jaeger, anyway?”

Lotor’s response would have been much more of a zinger if he hadn’t been shaking violently and breathing raggedly.

“His feet stink.”

Still, Lance’s eyes were closed, an unhealthy gray tone underneath his brown skin, and Hunk had to trust that the medical attention meant that he was still alive—because he sure as hell didn’t look it.  Both Lotor and Lance were completely drenched: Lance’s dark hair stuck to his forehead like a fever patient, and Lotor resembled nothing more than a bedraggled cat, with strands of long, bleached hair dripping with seawater.  His trademark eyeshadow had been completely washed away.  But he looked alive, and Lance, unmoving, limp as a ragdoll… didn’t.  Hunk’s chest felt like it was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

He watched silently as they carried Lance off to the medical wing, Lotor staggering along behind him.  Another medic tried to take his arm, pull him off in another direction, but Lotor yanked away, teeth bared.

“I’m-m—I’m n-not leaving him.”

There it went: the shards lodged where his heart should be flew apart.  It hadn’t been seeing Lance half-dead that had done it; it had been the sight of Lotor’s devotion, something Hunk had always known would put the final nail in the coffin for any chance he and Lance had with each other.

Because that sort of bond—who _wouldn’t_ choose it over someone as high-strung, uncertain, and anxious as Hunk?  Why would you ever go for a lowly engineer when you could be with a Jaeger pilot, as flashy as a rock star and ten times as heroic?

In slow motion, Lotor finally seemed to collapse, breathing even more labored than before.  The medics swarmed him, finally taking advantage of his weakness to load him to a stretcher and cart him away.

Unable to watch any more, Hunk turned and ran.

—

He told himself he wouldn’t bother Lance in the hospital.  That promise to himself lasted all of two days.

Of course, while he could break a promise on an impulse, he apparently didn’t have the courage to follow through.  He really should turn around, he thought morosely.  Let Lance forget about him—how long would it take, anyway, with someone like Lotor around?

So here he was, pacing in front of Lance’s hospital room like a total headcase.

He didn’t need any status updates; Pidge had passed him those without even being asked.  (Was he really that obvious?)  The acid had been neutralized enough with Lotor’s emergency treatment that it didn’t cause deep tissue damage, though he would undoubtedly have plenty of scars to show for it.  Knowing Lance, he’d never stop showing them off at parties.

He probably wasn’t even awake, Hunk told himself.  What sort of horrible guest would he be, waking Lance up from his much-needed sleep?  He was alive, and that was all Hunk needed to know.  He didn’t need to be here to confirm it.

So he turned to go—right as the door slid open.

“Oh, thank god.”

That smooth British voice was probably the last thing Hunk wanted to hear in the world.

Hunk turned slowly, knowing very well that Lotor should be in a room of his own.  But of course he would refuse: he needed to stay by Lance’s side, didn’t he?  Hunk took a moment to take in Lotor’s appearance: long pale hair pulled back to reveal an undercut, violet eyes that would have made Elizabeth Taylor jealous, brought out with the dark blue he always seemed to wear.  High cheekbones, a pointed chin, and canines that seemed to be just a little too sharp.  Otherworldly.  Almost faelike.

How could Hunk have _ever_ thought he could compare to this?

“What’s that look for?” Lotor snapped, eyes narrowing.  “I’m not going to stop you from visiting; stop looking like I spat in your breakfast.”

Hunk’s eyes slid away.  If he couldn’t conceal his feelings, he needed to go, and _now._  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt… you two.”

“Interrupt us doing what?” Lotor shot back, sounding bored and irritated at the same time.  “He hasn’t shut up about you for the past two days.  When _are_ you going to stop toying with his heart?  If you actually have any intentions, anyway.  And if you don’t, please tell me so I can stop all of this mooning nonsense.”

Hunk’s head snapped up at that, and he could only stare.  Had Lotor said what Hunk thought he had said?  That couldn’t be right.  He had to have misunderstood, even with the look Lotor had leveled at him.  The one that said, ‘if you have been toying with him, we will have a private talk.  And I will be in a Jaeger.’

“What?” he asked intelligently.

Lotor crossed his arms, wobbled, and had to grab the doorframe, ruining the intimidating effect.  “I would ask if I had stuttered, but I’ve been doing too much of that lately for comfort.  You’re here to see Lance, right?”

“Uh,” Hunk replied, still plenty intelligently.  “I mean, I… I _was_ thinking about it, but if you’re here… I don’t want to interrupt whatever you two might be… doing.”

A beat of silence, then two.  Hunk glanced back up to see that Lotor was staring at Hunk, mouth half-open, as if unable to believe what he had just said.

“ _No._ ”

Hunk couldn’t help but take a step back at the firm tone in Lotor’s voice.  “Uh, no?”

“No,” Lotor repeated, even more forcefully.  “Absolutely not.  Don’t you dare.”

Hunk swallowed.  Half of him wanted to ask Lotor what the hell his problem was; the other half, the half that was still grateful Lance was alive, shrank back from conflict.  “Wait, what am I doing?”

“You think we’re… oh, god, _no._ ”  Lotor’s face twisted in alarm and disbelief.  “Lance and I are not, have never been, nor ever _will_ be romantically involved.”

The words took several moments to process, during which Hunk could only stare at Lotor.  Not involved?  Not together?  Not in love?

“What?” he finally managed to ask, wondering if he’d ever manage a coherent conversation with this man.

Lotor rolled his eyes so hard that Hunk thought they might pop out of his head, then slumped back against the wall, crossing his arms again.  “Hunk, I’m in his head regularly.  If I have to listen, one more time, to his whirling thoughts of, ‘Oh, should I ask Hunk out?’  ‘What if he’s not that into me?’  ‘What if he just sees me as a friend?’  ‘What if he doesn’t want to be with someone who could die at any moment?’, along with a whole _host_ of other things in his imagination that I _never_ wanted to see and would make your hair curl to hear about, I’ll spit up acid and dissolve him myself!”

Ask Hunk out.  Be with him.   _Into_ him.  That coherent conversation wasn’t coming any time soon.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lotor snapped again, slowly pushing himself into a standing position.  “Come here.”

Hunk’s feet automatically took a few steps forward, and he wondered distantly if he was about to die.

“If this works,” Lotor continued, sounding jarringly conversational now, “you’ll have the influence needed to have him get rid of those cursed fuzzy dice hanging up in Aquarius Principe.  That’s how you can thank me for this.”

One of Lotor’s hands gripped the door, shoving it open, and the other, with surprising strength for someone who had been in a state of “falling over” two days ago, shoved Hunk inside.

Lance’s head snapped up as the door snicked shut behind him, and his tired, bandaged face immediately split into a beaming grin.  Hunk’s universe shifted, everything else within it rotating around this single object, full of relief and hope and everything good in the world.

“Hey,” Hunk breathed, wondering how the sound of his own heartbeat didn’t drown out the word.

“Hey,” Lance breathed back, and the croaked words were prettier than the most heavenly chords imaginable.  “It's been two days.  Thought I'd see you before this.”

Hunk's mouth twisted in a crooked smile.  “After what happened to Aquarius, they wanted Zephyr fixed immediately.  I've got her up and ready again, but took me working non-stop to do it.  I'll get your boy fixed up, soon, too.”

It technically wasn't a lie, and Lance seemed to accept it, nodding tiredly.

It took several moments for Hunk to work up the courage to step forward, but he finally managed, slow but steady, clinging to Lotor’s words like a beacon.  “I was worried for you.”

He didn’t realize he had extended his hand until Lance reached out as well, and their fingers curled together gently.

“I’ll always come back,” Lance croaked, and there was an obvious moment of hesitation before he finally said, “to you.”

The blood rushed to Hunk’s face, and he had to look away from Lance’s brilliant blue eyes, the handsome face, the eager expression that was _so_ happy to see him.  Still, his mouth curved into a slow grin.  Bravery leaped up through his chest and out through his lips.  “You trying to tell me somethin’, Lance?”

Lance swallowed, and Hunk could see the uncertainty on his face.  In response, hardly daring to hope, Hunk squeezed his hand tightly.  “Maybe.”

How had Hunk ever missed that look?  Had Lance just never worn it when Hunk could see him?  It left Hunk breathless, the vulnerability on Lance’s face that didn’t seem like it belonged there, but that Hunk cherished anyway.  A hope, one that Hunk knew all too well.

And one that Hunk wanted to fulfil.

He slowly sank into the chair by the bedside, lifting Lance’s hand to his face and turning to nuzzle into it.  He could hear the sharp inhalation of breath from the hospital bed, and his smile grew.

“And I’ll always be here waiting,” he replied, voice barely above a murmur, as something within him threatened to burst with joy.

And then Lance was pushing himself up slowly, and Hunk was trying to support him, and they were leaning in close, so _very_ close, close enough that Hunk could smell antiseptic and see the little fibers in the bandages.  And then he could _taste_ Lance, because their lips had met, pressed together with a surprising gentleness and hesitation, and Hunk could say with perfect confidence that this was the most amazing kiss ever.


End file.
